


You're Welcome

by Leni



Series: The Love Of A Good Woman [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Background Cora, F/M, background Cora/Rumpelstiltskin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 02:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10935291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: The whole castle trembled with Rumpelstiltskin's fury.





	You're Welcome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Of_Princes_and_Savages](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Of_Princes_and_Savages/gifts).



> Prompt: satin

The whole castle trembled with Rumpelstiltskin's fury. Belle felt herself sway as she stood at the doorstep of what would have been the private chambers of her master's bride. Only a couple of days ago the room had showcased the luxury and comfort a woman of such unique standing should expect, and Belle had marveled at the care Rumpelstiltskin had showed in decorating it.

Now her eyes traveled from one wall to the other, taking in the destruction. The oak closet that had dwarfed every other piece of furniture, taking up the whole height of the room, had been hacked to splinters; and the only evidence of the multitude of red satin cushions that had brightened the room was the smell of charred feathers. Belle shivered despite the heat coming off the bright fire at the back of the room, flames leaping up to the ceiling, devouring what had been a trousseau worthy of a queen. She had to bite her tongue, less a mourning whimper escaped her, at the thought of the treasure in silks and gold cloth, silver buttons and fine lace; a wealth defined by the careful eye of a man with good taste and no aim but to please his lady. The extravagance had been superfluous in her other life, but now that such treats were prohibited to her in her new station, Belle had looked forward to admiring the beautiful articles in another woman.

All gone now.

The worst was to realize that, before he had resorted to magic to obliterate every sign of his regard for a woman who would betray him, Rumpelstiltskin had used his own hands to shatter and rend his way through the room.

Belle struggled to imagine such scope of rage.

"I told you to stay in your room."

Belle jumped at his voice. Having stood there for several minutes, she had thought Rumpelstiltskin still too immersed in his angry churning to notice her. She opened her mouth, found that her throat was dry and decided it was for the best; telling him that she'd be concerned for him would only earn her a harsh laugh and another dismissal. Only recently had her overtures of friendship been received with something other than mockery or distrust, and in the last couple of weeks Belle had reasoned his good humor was due to his upcoming nuptials.

With the bride gone to another husband, Belle hesitated before speaking but nonetheless cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. "I thought you might want tea."

Rumpelstiltskin stared at her. "Tea?" he said, as if she'd just proposed that he broke into dance. "And why would I want _tea_?"

Belle forced her locked muscles to move into a little shrug. By some miracle, she conjured an accompanying smile. "Perhaps you're thirsty?"

He sneered, baring his teeth into a growl that made Belle's heart jump to her throat. Logic told her that she should be terrified. This was not one of Rumpelstiltskin's little tantrums over an undercooked potato or an unevenly darned shirt; this was the Dark One whose tales were told in the lowest whispers, his name never mentioned in fear that it would call his attention.

Gone were the giggles and clever wordplay. The patient man that sometimes peeked out, to share a tidbit from his travels or quiz her on her reading, was nowhere to be seen.

Belle shivered at the feel of the howling magic that poured off him. This was the beast, she thought. The terror her father had begged her not to follow. Would anyone else understand that it wasn't who Rumpelstiltskin really was? Even the mildest kitten would swipe and draw blood if wounded. A real monster would have done this damage to the home that viper had chosen instead of waiting to unleash his anger within the walls of his own castle. A real monster would be standing over a pile of bones instead of wood and cloth.

Rumpelstiltskin raged against objects that had held meaning only for himself, unseen by anyone except the stubborn maid who had not listened to his orders.

He might be the Dark One, and he might have reason for his pain and anger. However, Belle was still caretaker of his castle, and her main mission was to make his life comfortable. To leave him among the ruins of his hopes wasn’t something her conscience would allow. She had spent months walking on eggshells around him, but even if he’d seldom show kindness, he had been fair. 

Even if she were terrified, Belle hoped she would try to return the favor.

"Rumpelstiltskin, you're scaring me," she said frankly. His lips pulled into a horrible smile, and Belle knew that his next words would be to congratulate her on finally having the sense to be scared of him. "You haven't eaten in three days," she explained, disabusing him of the notion that he'd finally overcome her good sense. "You've been shut in here, and enough is enough. All you're doing now is to make any possibility of cleaning this up even harder!"

His eyes widened, and Belle braced herself for another tirade on how she must learn that the staff never dictated on their master.

Instead Rumpelstiltskin threw his head back in laughter.

"Clean up?" A wild snicker. "Only you, Belle, could think of such things now."

Her heart still beat a rapid tattoo against her chest; all about him - from his menacing posture to the cold tone of voice - prodded her flight instinct. Belle forced herself to remember his happy expression before he had left to collect his bride. That was the man he could be. In love and giddy with it, teasing rather than cruel.

That was a man worth helping.

"Please." She extended her hand toward him. "Come with me."

Rumpelstiltskin's eyes fixed on the offered hand, and Belle fought against making a fist and hiding it behind her back. She didn't waver, and eventually Rumpelstiltskin followed a line up her arm and to her face, a storm looking back at her when their eyes met.

Belle swore to herself that she wouldn't flinch.

"Go away, dearie," he said calmly.

The twitch of his fingers betrayed that he was seconds from tossing another fireball at the ablaze mound of clothes.

So much anger, and all he asked was that he be left to drown in it.

"Rumple. _Please_."

He snarled, throwing his arm into an arc that ended with a bright flame that leaped against the wall and broke through it, giving Belle a glimpse of the night sky outside before the booming sound of the impact finally drove her to her knees, hands over her ears.

The fire whooshed and gnarled into knots, braving the incoming breeze.

Destruction in the background, Rumpelstiltskin stood still, giving her an irate look. "Do. Not. Pity. Me."

Later, Belle would shudder at the memory of her daring, but at that moment all she knew was that her fears coalesced into an ugly knot of anger that had to be left out before it poisoned her. "Pity!" She came to her feet, advancing toward the enraged sorcerer before she could consider her actions. She gave him time to grieve, she gave him space, she offered him a grain of friendship, the same she'd do for a stranger on the street and a thousand times less than what Rumpelstiltskin deserved, and he threw it in her face? "You mean offering you something to do other than this... this pointless sulk!" She waved at the ruined room, the fire, the destroyed wall. "What will you do next, Rumpelstiltskin. Bring the whole castle down, because that woman would have lived here? Burn the gardens where she would have walked!"

"Yes!" he shouted back. "So what?"

"No, you won't." Belle knew it was her finger that had just poked Rumpelstiltskin's chest, but her mind couldn't quite comprehend such lack of self-preservation. For a long beat, the two of them stared at the point where her nail met his shirt. Rumpelstiltskin gave a slow blink; Belle told herself it was too late to retreat, so she didn't. "You're not that much of a fool," she told him.

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head, catching her wrist between his fingers and letting it drop. "But you are."

In the next instant, Belle found herself in her room.

Fuming, she marched to the door, moving to wring it open - and found that Rumpelstiltskin had already locked it. She should be crying in gratitude to have been spared his rage, but instead she pounded at the door, aware that his magic would make him aware of the sound despite the distance. "Let me out right now, Rumpelstiltskin!" she shouted.

No response.

Another ten minutes, and Belle knew she would spend the night in her rooms whether she wanted it or not.

Twenty minutes, and she had run out of names to call the stubborn man that was her master.

Half an hour, and she was drowsy already, the events of the evening finally catching up to her. Belle changed out of her dress, deciding to get some rest before whatever awaited her in the morning. If Rumpelstiltskin was still in a temper, she would try to reach through to him again, though the thought alone exhausted her.

It didn't occur to leave him alone to his pain, though.

"You're such a fool!" she whispered, beating her pillow and telling herself it was done to soften it.

Sleep didn't come easily, but at last it came.

Come morning, her first thought was relief to have slept through the night, without smashing sounds startling her awake. Swiftly, she changed and charged to the door, prepared to yell the roof down until Rumpelstiltskin came to collect her. Her surprise was great when the door opened at a touch, and it rose at the sight of the small tray on the floor.

It held a porcelain pot and the chipped teacup that had become Rumpelstiltskin's favorite. The tea he had rejected the night before.

Belle took it in, the knot between her shoulders relaxing.

Her master would never stoop to offer an apology, and much less to acknowledge that she had been right, but months together had taught Belle to read more in Rumpelstiltskin's actions than his words.

"You're welcome," she told the empty air, making sure to smile.

There was no answer, but it was enough to know that he had listened.

 

The End  
17/05/17

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love!


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